


Memorari

by misaffection



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, F/M, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misaffection/pseuds/misaffection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after her parents' death, River opens the door to a young woman with a problem and an older man with her husband's memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in my One Fixed Point universe, but skips ahead - there are some vague spoilers for other fics I've in mind, but this demanded writing.
> 
> Post-ep The Time Of The Doctor

River is reading at her breakfast bar when the hammering starts. She marks the page in her book with an unopened envelope and slips off the stool. She opens the front door to a hassled looked young woman with dark hair and a very short skirt.

“River Song?” she asks.

“Yes?”

“Hi, I'm Clara Oswald. We... ah, need your help.”

River frowns. “We?”

Clara glances to the side, mutters a naughty word, then disappears. She re-emerges from the rose bushes with a tall, thin man. River feels the universe shift. He is unfamiliar, with greying blond hair and blue eyes, and yet she recognises him. Even before she realises he's still wearing trousers held in place by braces.

A thousand questions crowd her mind, but then his bewildered expression melts into genuine delight and he cries, “River!”

“Oh, you remember!” She grins back at him, pleased, then sees the look on Clara's face. “What?”

“You, he remembers. And me. And Amy and Rory. What he _doesn't_ is how to fly the TARDIS.”

Well, that's a new one. River takes stock of her new Doctor, who's gone back to confusion, and shakes her head. “How did you get here, then?”

“Honestly?” Clara says. “I'm not entirely sure. The TARDIS seemed to take over.”

“She can do that, if it's necessary. Hang on, let me grab my coat.” River does that, then locks her door. She feels nothing as she turns away from the house. It was never a home. Taking the Doctor's arm, she walks between him and his companion, in order to get some answers. “What happened?”

Clara is quick. “He went to Trenzalore.”

“Oh?” The name means nothing to River. “Is that important?”

The young girl wrinkles her nose. “God, time travel is complicated. Yes, it was where he thought he was going to die. A question was asked. The Silence wanted to stop him answering it.”

River processes that. “So they managed that?”

“Oh no. There was a crack. Into time and space and... Gallifrey was on the other side.”

“Gallifrey? Gallifrey's gone! It...” River glances at the Doctor. His new blue eyes are calm and there's a faint smile on his face. “I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?” she sighs.

“I shouldn't have let you.”

She does not want to have this conversation now. Maybe not ever. She focuses on the blue box ahead, the light top pulsing bright. The TARDIS seems happy enough. Perhaps it's just pleased to have someone aboard that knows what they're doing.

The Doctor really _doesn't_ remember. River had thought it might have been a temporary thing, brought on by his regeneration, or that he was overacting in order to get a response, but neither theory ends up being correct. He's forgotten. More, it takes her several attempts to fix the processes in his head.

“What did Gallifrey do that made you such an idiot?” she snaps when he gets it wrong again. Clara watches from the seat, her knees pulled up against her chest. The young woman looks worn and a little sad. Her head lifts at the question.

“I don't think it was them. I think he did it. The other him, I mean. He was saying how he wanted to remember being the Doctor. That he didn't want to forget.”

“Well, he remembered me, so that worked.”

“I just can't remember anything else,” the Doctor says. “I'm not even sure how to be me.”

River rolls her eyes. “You always go too far.”

He grins back at her. “I know. But it's not that bad – I have you to teach me.”

“How to fly the TARDIS or be the new Doctor?”

“I think I've almost gotten the hang of flying. So maybe...” He steps towards her, then stops, that half-smile on his face but an uncertain light in his eyes. “I was on Trenzalore for over three hundred years. That's a lot of time to think. A lot of time to figure out where I'd made mistakes. Letting you go was definitely a mistake.”

“Yes,” River agrees. “It was.”

“Can you forgive me?”

She gives up with a smile. “I already did, my love.”

He flicks a switch with a casual wave of his hand. The TARDIS's engine powers up. River folds her arms and watches, though she'll be quick enough to help if he gets it wrong. However it would seem that his new memory has finally kicked in and they slip into the time vortex without incident.

“See? Told you!” The Doctor laughs and spins triumphantly. “I _can_ do it!”

“That's what he said just before we crash landed,” Clara puts in.

River bites back a giggle at his pole-axed expression. It's easy to close the gap, to put her arms around him. A hand settles in the small of her back with no hesitation. She hugs him tighter, pain spiking at the time lost to her.

“I am sorry,” he whispers. “Oh River, I am so sorry.”

“Yeah,” she replies, her own voice husky. “So you should be.”

When she pulls back to look at him, she experiences a little shock at the hair, and the eyes that are at once so new and yet so old. She'll get used to this face. To this Doctor. It might help being here, at the start of him, when he's more memory of the last incarnation that of himself. Then he gives that half smile again, mischief and knowledge mingling endearingly, and there's enough of the old him that she recognises the glint in his eyes.

She lets him, because it's been far too long and she never wanted to go. His lips are a little thinner, but he definitely remembers this as well. The hand at her back slides down to her bum and she laughs into his mouth.

“If you two are going to kiss and make up, either you need a room or I do.”

The Doctor breaks away and shoots Clara a look. River grabs his hand. “We will,” she tells the woman, and drags him out of the control room.

It's past time to get reacquainted with her husband. To start making new memories.


	2. Concopulo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River gets reacquainted with her husband.

The Doctor's bedroom hasn't changed. It's probably too early, too soon into his regeneration. He doesn't know himself, never mind what colour he prefers. There are other things he's much more certain about – he pulls her into a kiss that starts slow, then deepens into a demand she's happy to respond to. She tries to lose herself in the passion, but memory is a two-edged sword and the sharpness slices into her heart.

River cannot hold back the tears as pain overwhelms her. It spreads through her, hollowing her out, until she's sure she will shatter from it.

He holds her tighter. Holds her together. His lips trail the line of her jaw, then he whispers her name, voice ragged and raw. “If I knew how, I'd go back and change time.”

“You can't.” She sniffs and grips his collar. “You can't cross your personal time line.”

“Well, I can. It's just whether I should. I could undo the universe.” He leans back and cups her cheek, then dries a tear with the sweep of a thumb. “It's a reasonable risk.”

She smiles at that. “It's not. Doctor, it's history. Let it go.”

Blue eyes scan her face. He sighs, resigned, then flashes a cocky smile. “If we're not travelling into the past, then can we at least make a present?”

Her fingers tremble as she works the shirt buttons undone. She slides the braces off his shoulders. He's still skinny, she finds, though not as gangling. And though this body is older than the last, his skin is smooth and tight over wiry muscles. Blond curls arrow down between his pectorals, darkening the lower they get. River traces the line, throwing a smirk through her eyelashes when she reaches the waistband of his trousers.

“That's a yes, is it?” He goes for nonchalant, she suspects, but misses by a mile. There's too much of an undercurrent of need. It echoes that which seems to be clawing out her insides.

“Yes,” she snaps and hauls him closer. He chuckles, goading her fury further. She's no idea why she is angry, only that it burns hot. Perhaps she's not forgiven him completely after all. But in her defence it's been so long, and she'd lost just as much. Her mother's choice had been easier to accept than his, though.

The Doctor mouths the hollow of her neck. There's nothing shy or hesitant about the way his tongue draws small circles there or the slide of his hands over her skin. Her blouse flutters to the floor, a cream silk flag of surrender. River wraps the anger in her mind, then pushes it away. The past is history. She's a future to make.

It seems he reads her mind and scoops her up. The suddenness results in her giving an undignified squeal, but she's barely had chance to decide on wriggling when he dumps her on the bed. The bed is too soft for the drop to injure, and her protest is neatly silenced by a kiss that leaves her breathless.

He moves down her body, slow and sure. She gasps at the nip of teeth at her nipple. Much more certain, she thinks distantly. Golden light distracts her. She lifts her head to see trails of stardust glittering on her skin. His regeneration was that recent, then. The touch of magic dances over her breasts and she squirms at the warm sensation.

“Stop that,” she chides.

“And miss such an opportunity?”

River bats at his shoulder. He just laughs and continues at that maddeningly slow pace. Her skin tightens. Arousal coils in her gut. She curls her toes at the brush of his fingers between her legs. Regeneration energy tingles over sensitive parts and she gasps.

He glances up her body. The blue of his eyes is dark with passion; midnight that rolls like a cloud. An oncoming storm, she thinks, her internal giggle bubbling up and emerging as a broken groan. She cards fingers through the soft waves of his hair and shakes her head, beyond words. His answering smile is gentle, conveying enough love to burst her heart.

Then his head drops between her thighs.

A ragged groan rips from her. She fists the coverlet, her body lighting on fire. His assault gives no quarter and she squirms helplessly beneath him. His tongue flicks over the nub of nerves. Long fingers stroke inside her. Need piles on need until she's keening, dammit, but she cannot stop. It pulls inward like a black hole, dragging her on relentlessly.

The climax tears through, shattering and leaving her sobbing. The Doctor kisses his way back up her body, then wraps his arms around and holds her close. Tight. River clings to him, lost in the storm of her emotions.

It passes slowly. She hiccups an apology, but he shakes his head. “Shut up,” he scolds softly. “You never need to be sorry with me, my love.”

She puts a hand to his face, that is so unknown and yet so familiar, and gazes into his new eyes. They echo with older wisdom, an age that is so vast she wonders what she missed. Not that she's any plans to ask – if he wishes to tell her, then he will.

“Make love to me,” she requests, and he grins.

“If you insist.”

He shifts over and in, and she arches at the pleasure of it. Forehead against hers, he locks her gaze as he thrusts, the steady pace quickly becoming faster and less organised. River smirks. She rakes her nails down his back. His eyes narrow. Something very naughty drops from his lips in Gallifreyan. River giggles – apparently the new likes that as much as the old did – and his response is to ram in harder.

She wraps her legs around his narrow hips and for some time it's more of sexual battle. She manages to roll them over and she rides him just as hard before he regains control. They tumble off the bed and onto the floor, but not even that stops him. He rumbles a laugh that she echoes, and then drives in until she sees stars.

The second climax leaves her sated and limp. The Doctor gathers her up again, returning her to the bed. He spoons next to her and flips the coverlet over them. River snuggles back, a contented smile on her face. His fingers trail the length of her arm.

“Will you come back?”

“Of course.”

“I missed you.”

She grips his hand. “And I you.”

“I am sorry.”

“I know, and so am I. We both said things that we shouldn't.”

The Doctor sighs. “It was not so much the saying as it was that we left it like that. For far too long.”

“The kissing and making up _was_ fun, though.”

“Indubitably.”

“Sweetie?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Never say that ever again.”

He laughs and she joins in, giggling herself to sleep in the cocoon of his arms.


End file.
